


Rogue

by annie_whobug



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_whobug/pseuds/annie_whobug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha had been dating for years but Clint thought they were growing apart after New York he didn't feel like he belonged in the tower so after a messy breakup and realising you have no one left who trusts you what else can you do but prove them right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rogue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic on archive of our own I really just write them down in my note books but I really like this one so I thought I'd share it.

Why was everyone acting like it was the biggest thing that had happened since New York? So what a relationship failed? It happens a lot but no one understood why it failed. Clint broke up with Natasha because that was what he thought she wanted, he did it because he thought she didn't love him. Of course Clint loved her and he _knew_ he loved her, he broke up with her to save the awkward social interaction that he knew she hated. He knew a lot about her; like she didn't like olives on her pizza, she doesn't believe in giving up, she thinks that mangoes don't taste like mango juice, and that when she's upset she doesn't eat. Unfortunately that meant nothing to either of them right now since she couldn't bear the sight of him.

Clint was sitting on the end of his bed with an empty suitcase next to him which was soon to be full. Everyone blamed him so he thought he might as well leave, he hadn't felt this unwelcomed since New York, he ditched the suitcase and grabbed a duffel bag; stuffing it full with any clothes that he could find. He got to the bottom of the last draw, hollow feeling entered him, it only just sunk in that he probably won't ever refill these draws he tried to count on one hand the amount of times he's emptied those draws but he suddenly stops noticing something at the bottom of the draw, he immediately wished he hadn't seen it as it brought back memories he wished would stay tucked away. It was Natasha's knife, the knife that brought them together, she had left it behind on one of her missions when she was apart of the KGB it had led them right to her. His fingers ran over the engravings on the knife, it read 'NR' her initials and 'BW' her other initials. At a later time when Clint had gained her trust, after he had fallen in love with her, after she had fallen in love with him she told him the story behind the knife, that one of the trainers in the Red Room had taken her under his wing, taken a liking to her but like a daughter he treated her nicer than the others and when she killed her first target her got her the knives. As a gesture that he was proud. He had now ruined this for her too. Clint slid the knife into his back pocket only the initials showing he threw his coat on and headed for the door, only then he began to feel a presence behind him, "What good is leaving going to do?" It was Hill just who he needed, "you'll still see her at work, she's your damn partner," he didn't need a voice of reason right now so he just carried on towards the door, ignoring her question. As he opened the door to leave, to never come back a smooth hand held his at the door. It was Natasha. Their eyes met, _god her eyes are so beautiful, why is she so beautiful_ Clint thought she was looking straight through him trying to understand what he was doing, but she couldn't. Clint was half way through the door when he grabbed Natasha's hand sliding the knife on top, whispering gently, "I'm sorry," then he was gone. Natasha's knees buckled underneath her, so overwhelmed with emotions that she didn't cry she _screamed,_ staring at the knife willing the memories to stay behind the wall she had built but they wanted to be free, it was like the memories were the ones with sledge hammers and Natasha is using glue to keep the wall together, she is fighting a battle _that she just won't win._

* * *

The first thing Clint did was go to a bank and take out all the money he owned and change it into Russian ruble apart from how much he needed for the plane ticket to Russia, all he needed to do was find someone who could get his weapons into Russia and pay them. It was alarming how quickly he found someone, who would do it for a price of course but it was done fairly quickly and within four hours of leaving Stark towers he was on a plane to Russia. He would go rogue an arrow or gun for hire he would travel on a fake passport buy a flat under a fake name so all traces of Clinton Francis Barton would be erased. Upon landing in Russia he decided he would be Erik Bsian, a trained assassin working for himself. He collected his duffel bag and weapons from a man named Mitchel, bought a mattress, an apartment and he was ready to make a name for himself. He decided to find a card game with the worst kind of people, it's easier to find a job from people who won't do it themselves, after a few rounds he was accepted and they started opening up complaining about some diplomat who had been causing them trouble but they couldn't find anyone willing enough to do the job. Clint found his opportunity, stating his price saying that it would never be traced back to them saying it would be done in a week, the shook on it then Clint left to prepare. Clint had managed to hack into his personal assistants e-mail finding out his schedule for the week when best to strike, he decided to make it public it would make a better name for him, so he would do it at a seminar he was guest speaking at. The day came around slower than expected he decided to use his arrow from a distance it would make a better name for him, the archer positioned himself 40 feet from the window the diplomat was in waited until he was in range aimed, fired, and dead. Clint was paid in full, after being boasted about to others he was being hired regularly and being paid regularly and by himself regularly. That was Clint's life for the fore-see able future.

* * *

It took six years before he got on SHEILD's radar, when Clint had gone missing everyone had assumed her had been abducted no one thought this, after a year they assumed he was dead. Natasha never really got over him "being dead" but she did have to get on with her life, when a mission came in to go into Russia and take this guy out, Clint did not look like Clint. There was however a reason why he had a scar over his eye and something to cover up his face up to his nose and he didn't have hair anymore he had shaved it off so it was like army stuble. No one thought it was him, no one had reason to believe it was him. The mission for Natasha ad Phil was a solo mission, they were boarding their plane to Russia when Phil spoke up pulling a tablet out of his pocket, "intel says he'll be taking out the head of the Russian military at the Yelchin Conference," Natasha nodded. The time flew by and when the time came she was ready, she found the best place to take someone out with an arrow. She found it odd that an assassin would use a bow and arrow it wasn't anyone's weapon of choice apart from Clint's  _but Clint's dead_ she thought. She located the best place but he was already there. She tried to creep behind him to get a better shot but he already heard her and pounced to his feet shot an arrow at Natasha but missed, he had never been happier than to miss. His eyes widened and instead of firing another arrow he jumped down to the balcony and made a run for it, he didn't want to hurt Natasha, not again. She was hot on his tail as they reached the plaza, Natasha pulled her gun out put Clint kicked it out of her hand, forcing her into hand-to-hand combat. She whipped the knife out that Clint had left her and his eyes went soft, they fought neither dominating until Clint had to give in , he couldn't hurt her anymore, it was a mistake on Clint's part. Natasha plunged the knife into Clint's gut and pulled it back out collapsing onto his knees, Clint looked up with eyes that broke the persona of his hard face, "Nat," he whispered barely audible, she pulled away whatever was covering his face and screamed into her hands. Phil hearing the screams immediately came onto the comms, "Nat what's wrong?" Natasha lent down in front of Clint, her shaking hands run under his head to hold it in her lap, "its Clint Phil," she cried,  
"I'm sending medics in," she stroked his face, holding him tightly. Clint fumbled for her hand, "its ok Nat," he nodded, "I'm glad it was you, it was going to happen one day," he laughed through the pain, she shook her head trying to read him but it was no use,  
"Oh Clint why?" he smiled at her, running his fingers over her lips,  
"Because I always fuck it up Nat," she cried into his shoulder, Clint's bottom lip quivered, trying to suppress the pain in his gut, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer, "we could've fucked up together," Natasha said stroking his check trying to rub away the tears on his checks. He shook his head looking at her with such love and affection he couldn't remember why he left, "I love you Nat, always have это никогда не было вашей вине (it was never your fault)," the light left his eyes so quickly she couldn't react, she could only respond, "да это было (yes it was)." The medics arrived not 30 seconds later and began reviving him, within five minutes they had a pulse and began working on the wound in his gut. At the hospital Clint was immediately taken into to surgery the Doctors did the best they could, which was just enough. Clint was stabilised but one of his hands was cuffed to the rail, the amount of murders he committed was more than Natasha had when she was with the Red Room. She sat next to his bed biting her nails to the nub, but Clint began to stir, "цифры (figures)," he was speaking in Russian which was odd to Natasha, "Clint," she edged towards him eyes locked on each other. Clint's eyes began to swell up, "Мне так жаль Наташу за то, что я сделал (I'm so sorry Natasha for what I did)," Natasha chuckled,  
"Clint stop speaking Russian," she laughed at him and Clint's smile was different it was an affectionate one like he had just heard her laugh for the first time. He shook his head smiling, "sorry six years of speaking Russian I forget what my first language really is," Clint looked tired and defeated, he looked like a man who had decided he wasn't worth it but Natasha had to know. She gave him a soft look before she spoke, "why Clint? Just why?" she asked puzzled, his face fell into sadness,  
"Because I didn't think you could love someone like me, someone who had fucked up everything beyond comparison," he paused to regain his composure, "because who could love me?" his face resembled the look of someone who knew that no one cared about him but he was so wrong, "Я всегда любил вас Клинт (I've always loved you Clint)," she took his bruised face into her hands and kissed him so deeply and passionately that it felt like fireworks were going off, she had missed him so much. Clint was overcoming with emotions he was crying into her shoulder holding her waist with one hand, she picked the lock of the hand cuffs so he could hold her, so she could lay her shoulder, so could fall asleep _together._      


End file.
